


Silent In The Trees

by theentityyousee



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Brief Mention of Blood, Bullets, Death, Established Relationship, Guns, Happy Ending, M/M, Magazines, Minor Character Death, Socks, assassin!phil, dan is confused, fix it later, i was short on time, not as angsty as I planned, phil is an assassin, pianoteacher!Dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 15:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9079453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theentityyousee/pseuds/theentityyousee
Summary: Yes, I kill people for a living. No, it’s none of your business.Dan doesn’t know what Phil is up to; Phil is hoping he never finds out. Then two guys break into their flat.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Alright. If you could listen to the song ‘Trees’ by twenty one pilots (Vessel version) before reading, you may understand a bit what I attempted here. If not for the story, it’s a great song. Also, I am I the only one who gets intense Hunger Games vibes from that song? Yes? Okay then....

_I know where you stand_

_Silent in the trees_

_And that’s where I am_

_Silent in the trees._

_Why won't you speak_

_Where I happen to be?_

_Silent in the trees_

_Standing cowardly._

 

_I can feel your breath._

_I can feel my death._

_I want to know you._

_I want to see._

_I want to say, hello_

 

Dan had only met Phil a year before. They had hit it off immediately, and now lived happily in a rather large London flat. It was mostly due to Phil’s government salary. Dan wasn’t very clear on the details, but he knew Phil had to go on a lot of short trips, and he figured he was probably pretty important. He tries not to concern himself with these things. It isn’t really his business.

 

He himself is a piano teacher. He doesn’t let pride get to him, but he’s one of the most sought after piano teachers in London. His small studio is always filled and always busy.

 

Phil feels a little guilty about not telling Dan the true nature of his job, but he knows he can’t. He’s a contract killer, or an assassin in normal terms.

 

His laptop pings with another email from Steph, his boss.

 

_Phil,_

 

_Details attached below, but here are the basics: criminal organization based in Manchester, it should take only three days, you leave on Tuesday, December 27._

 

_-Stephano de Capo_

 

It isn’t a very formal email, but it never is these days. The criminal organization based in Manchester- they’ve been keeping everyone on their toes for the past year. He’s glad they’ve found the base, but a bit worried that something will go wrong. This is bigger than he’s ever dealt with, his most important mission yet. Phil cannot afford to botch this.

 

Phil sighs and starts packing; he’ll tell Dan about this tonight when he comes home from work. He’s leaving tomorrow. Why such short notice? He doesn’t know. One of the cons of a job like his, he supposes. Everything is in real time, and sometimes real time is too fast for him.

 

That night, Phil prepares frozen pizza. It’s not the most exotic food, but it makes them happy, and right now he needs the mental prep for heading into battle tomorrow.

 

“So, Dan,” he says as he flicks the TV on.

 

“Hmm.” Dan is too preoccupied with not burning his face with pizza than actually listening.

 

“I’m leaving on a trip tomorrow. Three days.”

 

“Okay then. Is that what the pizza’s for?” Furiously fanning his face, which feels like it’s on fire. He makes a mental note to never eat a slice of pizza straight out of the oven ever again, although he knows he’ll forget next time like he always does.”

 

“You know me too well,” grins Phil, and grabbing Dan by the waist in one arm and the platter of pizza in the other, yanks the party into the sitting room. They watch a random handfuls of episodes from shows; some new, some old, and by the time it’s eleven at night, Dan has fallen asleep against Phil. Phil smiles at the sight, then switches off the TV and puts Dan to bed. With of them being tall, he can say from experience that it’s pure hell to fall asleep on their couch.

 

Phil sleeps soon after, throwing two pairs of socks and a razor into his bag for the next couple days. It doesn’t take long for him to pass out, cuddled into the back of Dan, and have nightmares about his long train ride tomorrow.

—

He’s only just woken up, but something seems very wrong already. He’s cold, half the duvet is off of him, and his pillow is flat. He rubs his eyes sleepily and looks up, into Phil’s face. Phil, who for whatever reason, is standing up and seems to be wide awake at this ungodly hour. Dan reaches out to grab him, only for Phil to dodge.

 

“Sorry, Bear. Didn’t mean to wake you up. I have a trip today though, remember? That’s where I’m headed,” Phil whispers. Dan nods and drags Phil’s face down for a kiss, which he promptly receives.

 

They hold each other for a minute, Phil nuzzling his face into Dan’s hair, before he stands up again. He needs to go.

 

The taxi comes, and Phil is dropped at the train station and sent the address he needs to end up at. He taps it into his phone notes for security then deletes the text.

 

He’s been sent to kill the head of the criminal organization based in Manchester. Well, the head and five other leader types. They were ruthless and thieving, killing for both fun and for profit. Recently, many major heists had been pulled off by this organization, and people were beginning to refer to them as ‘the British Mafia.’ Phil didn’t really approve of this because what would raise a criminal group’s ego and therefore crime rates like being compared to the Mafia?

—

Dan is swiping the duster around the living room, imitating the posh women in cartoons and old television shows. Not quite certain he’s doing it correctly, he’ll check it all over later. Right now he’s having too much fun dancing around his home.

 

He’s gotten used to Phil’s being gone for days every month, and the first day of him being gone isn’t even over yet, but Dan still misses him something dreadful. It’s the thing with someone you love so much; you miss them terribly after they’e gone for nearly a full day, even if that happens everyday. He’s still relishing in the fact that they’re _actually_ engaged now.

 

Giddy, he stumbles into their bedroom and starts dusting the dresser even though they use it many times every day and the day it collects dust will be the day they stop using it.

 

He opens the top drawer to maybe get himself some socks for the cold kitchen tiles he plans to dust around in a few minutes, when he realizes there’s something in one of Phil’s (originally Phil’s. Their socks are shared so often it hardly matters anymore) old socks.

 

Picking it up with only the intention of shaking out whatever packet of candy Phil thought he could hide from Dan, he dumps it out onto their bed. So when a small, velcro pouch of something sharp, pointy, and shiny falls out, he gasps into his hand. This is- he tries to recall the word- a magazine. The kind you put bullets in. And the shiny things in the magazine are bullets.

 

He knows that Phil works and important job, and maybe it’s a safety measure for emergencies at work. That must be the only reason why Phil keeps bullets in his socks in the bedroom, there is absolutely no other reason. Still Dan doesn’t look at any more of Phil’s socks in case he finds something else.

 

After deciding against calling Phil to confront him, Dan makes himself dinner and sleeps. He ignores the nagging thought of the actual reason Phil may keep bullets within such easy reach.

 

Dreams of Phil being chased down by masked men haunts his thoughts this night.

 

Dan gets over it quickly. He shakes off his nightmares and yesterday’s discovery, and goes to work. He tries teaching his younger students a new piece, and seeing them all attempt it warms his heart. While he prepares for his next lesson, his mind is filled with visions of himself and Phil adopting a child one day, once they’re married. _I’ll teach that child piano_ , he thinks. _We’ll be happy and it’ll all be perfect_.

 

He goes to sleep that night with a smile on his face.

—

Phil’s due back home at three in the afternoon. Dan is excited, of course he’s excited! Who wouldn’t be excited that the man they were due to marry in two months was coming home after two and a half days? The man they utterly loved? No one, that’s who.

 

Since waking up, Dan notices his craving for cuddles has skyrocketed. It’s agony, knowing that tonight he will get to cuddle and touch and kiss to his heart’s content, but right now, he has to go teach a bunch of teenagers how to play the piano. His mood is shot down immediately at the thought. There’s no better way to start your day than a 7:30 class with teenagers, right?

 

He realizes then that he’s being absolutely ridiculous. This happens every month when Phil is gone; his will to get out of bed simultaneously increases and decreases, and he realizes that they’re dangerously co-dependent. They’ve been living together for far too long.

 

The day passes by uneventfully for both Dan and Phil. Phil gets on his train just fine and on time, but there’s been some kind of scheduling error at the next stop, and as a result, two trains have crashed. Phil’s going to be _so_ late, they literally have to drag trains out from in front of his train.

 

Idly waiting by has never been Phil’s strong suit, a major contribution to his career and the success of said career. It’s just turned three in the afternoon when they get moving again so Phil shoots Dan a text saying that he’s fine, but there was a crash with another train and so he’ll be late.

 

He’s just sent the text when he gets the call. It’s from an unknown number and at this point he should know better than to pick up, but he’s so mentally tired. Killing six people will drain you mentally more than most people imagine, not that most people imagine killing six people. He just ended up being one of the “lucky” people who has got to wade through blood and gore while holding his breath and waiting for backup.

 

“Hello? Who is this?” He asks into his speaker, speaking a bit more silently when he sees the old woman next to him stir in here sleep, “have you got the wrong number?” It sounds right in his head, but he cringes at himself for saying something so stupid sounding.

 

“Nope. We’ve got info that you’re coming home at three, so I’d like to tell you that my men- yes, the men belonging to the man you just killed- are right outside. Pick up your gun, honey. We’d like for you to go down with a fight.”

 

The voice is unfamiliar, but he’s only concerned with that fact for a second. As he hears the beep in his ear saying that the call has ended, there’s only one thought in his mind. Dan. Dan is home.

—

Dan receives a text from Phil at five past three, saying he’ll be home later due to a train wreck. Immediately after, there’s a knock on the door, but before he can answer, the door is knocked open. Instantly he’s on high alert, focusing on the men that come in, and counting three that are now facing him.

 

“Well,” says the man in the middle. He’s the second most buff, behind the guy on the left, but they all look very strong and for the first time, Dan thinks to be scared for his life. “You must be Philip Lester. You’ve been fucking sky-high on our hit list, you know, being responsible for killing my boss and all that. As if we can’t function without him.”

 

This, Dan now has confirmation, is why Phil keeps a magazine in his sock drawer. Because he’s got himself on hit lists and all that fancy stuff.

 

“I’m- I’m not Phil- fuck. His train… caught in a wreck. He’ll be late.” He can’t speak straight, so caught up in fear. He notices he’s trembling like mad and makes an effort to stand still, to no avail. Where are the nosy neighbors that always tell them off for having sex? How could they not hear the door crashing down?

 

“Haha, right. Why’re you here then? Oh shit, are we at the wrong place? Joe, did you even fucking check the address?” The man in the middle turns to the man on the right. The man on the right, Joe, nods solemnly. “Okay, Lester? Can’t hide from us now!”

 

Panicking in earnest, Dan practically shrieks,”I’m not Phil, I’m not Phil!” His eyes begin to water when they pull out guns.

 

Left guy jerks his thumb at the middle man. “Why didn’t you answer him then, kiddo?”

 

Dan feels a tear roll down his face. Phil will be home in a few hours, and picturing his reaction to Dan’s dead body laying on the floor of their lounge. “I’m… h- his fiancé.”

 

The man in the middle grins cruelly. “That’s even better than you being his random roommate. You care more. Would you like to know who Phil is?” Dan finds himself nodding and being led to sit down. He’s so, so confused. Shouldn’t they be killing him or something? The man seems to catch onto his confusion and answers,”If we kill you now, someone will report us and then we won’t get Lester. Don’t think I won’t hesitate to shoot you though, if you acting like a fucking bitch and try to snitch on us.”

 

So Dan is bombarded with details of who and when Phil had killed within the past year, and Dan knows this isn’t an occasional thing. Every time Phil is out on a trip, this is what he’s doing. Dan doesn’t care that it’s his job. At this point, he’s disgusted a little to guess the sum of people Phil has killed over the years they’ve known each other.

 

When the door opens again, hours later, it falls off its single hinge. The other two are already on the floor, and it’s a wonder it hadn’t already fallen off. Phil runs inside, fires five times at the men, then turns to face Dan. “They called me to tell me they’d be here. Um… are you alright? You don’t look hurt- oh god! Are you hurt?” Dan nods no and Phil laughs weakly, leaning in for a kiss. Their lips have barely brushed when Dan pulls back, even though every fiber in him wants to never let go and just make out on the couch. “Dan? What’s wrong?”

 

“I just witnessed you kill three people right in front of me, and you’re asking what’s wrong? The bodies are right next to us! I’m calling the police,” deciding on that, he snatches up his phone and dials 999 quicker than Phil react. “Hello. My fiancé just killed three people in our flat and… yeah. Uh-huh. Yeah, I can do that” he spells out their address,”okay, thanks!” Faking a smile just for the cheery goodbye, as one does on the phone, he hangs up.

 

Phil’s eyes have gone wide, but he knows that it doesn’t matter. Instead he takes out his wallet and sits on the sofa while Dan runs into the kitchen, throwing his phone onto the counter and turning on the tap. He needs to wash his face.

 

Once again, the door is walked into unannounced, and Phil greets them. Dan runs out a moment later, wiping his wet hands on his skinny jeans, and stands there. The police, meanwhile, are just inspecting the bodies on the floor. A woman comes to talk to Dan. “You’re the one who called us, no?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Alright. Is this the first time something like this has happened?”

 

“The first time here. I- um, he’s killed many others before.”

 

“Do you have any reasons as to wh-“

 

Phil shushes them both, holding up an ID card that Dan had never seen before. The woman nods, shoots a pitiful expression at Dan, and goes off to tell her coworkers something.

 

“It’s my job, Dan.” Phil takes Dan’s hand. Dan doesn’t pull away.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“I wasn’t allowed to! I’m still not, technically, until we’re married.”

 

Dan hums in response.

 

“Dan?”

 

“I found a magazine in your sock the day before yesterday,” he says.

 

Phil’s mouth makes and ‘O’ shape. “Whoops. Why were you in the sock drawer?”

 

“Looking for socks.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Of course.”

 

They’re silent for another minute of two until the officer comes back. “We’ll have the bodies cleared out soon, but I suggest you two go out while it’s being done.” She turns to face Phil. “I would suggest, Lester, that you report this situation to your superior.”

 

“I will.”

 

“Right then. You two can take your leave. We should be cleared out by eleven, it’s already nine thirty.”

—

They go to a tea place that’s just about to close, and sit in a park. Phil calls Steph to tell him what’s happened.

 

“Hey, Steph!”

 

“Hello, Phil. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

 

“I got a call from some guys from the group while my train was delayed, telling me they would be in my home shortly. I guess they thought I was there. So I get home and shoot them because they actually asked for it over the phone and I knew they’d be there.”

 

“But…?”

 

“Dan was there.”

 

“Your fiancé Dan?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Oh. Okay then. Don’t tell anyone else that you told him and then you’ll be married in a few months anyway, right? I’m not gonna sell you out or something.”

 

Phil flushes with relief, thanks Steph and hangs up. He swings his arm over Dan’s shoulders and lays his head on his shoulder. “Hey Dan? You don’t hate me or anything, right?”

 

“NO! I could never. Just… how many people have you….” Dan trails off, not wanting to assign such a violent term to Phil after already having done it once to the police.

 

“So many… I’ve lost count, honestly. Crap, that sounds bad doesn’t it?”

 

“A little. I still love you. Just don’t get abducted or anything, okay?”

 

Phil grins, knowing that the question is in jest but still saddened by the possibility of it becoming reality. It’s a possible reality, a risk he’s taking. He takes Dan’s hand and kisses every knuckle, wrapping his other arm around Dan and eliciting a giggle from him.

 

“I promise to try.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this is late I'm crazy jet-lagged and I'm posting this at 6:30 AM so, I tried. I didn't have my laptop until like an hour ago. I've been up all night.
> 
> I may someday write more based on this song tbh it's amazingly inspiring.


End file.
